Mutant Apocalypse
by Dark Phoenix Rising
Summary: Scott Summers woke up from a coma and was thrown into a world that he didn't recognize anymore. The fight for survival in a world in which every day could be your last is on. Who are those man-eating ferals and where do they come from? - X-Men meets The Walking Dead. The characters used here are those from the X-Men movies! Please read and review! Last update: January 22.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:**

I had this idea for a new story while binge-watching The Walking Dead. I don't know yet how long this story is going to be, but I will also still be writing on Changes. I hope you guys will enjoy this fic. Please leave a review and let me know what you think.

The characters belong to Marvel.

* * *

 **Mutant Apocalypse**

 **Chapter 1: How it was**

It was a hot day in New York. People were busy on the streets, rush hour as annoying and unbearable as always and not a single breeze helped to cool the agony that was August's summer sun. Shirts were soaked and people showed more skin than necessary. The only thing you wanted was to stand underneath a shower and remain there. Scott Summers however didn't have that luxury. He was a man on a mission.

Accompanied by his brother Alex he drove through the mayhem that was New York's streets, one eye always on the GPS that gave him the worst directions ever. They were supposed to find a mutant, to recruit her for the school and to be back for lunch. He doubted they would make it before late dinner. Again the car came to a halt and he groaned. At least the AC was working. For now.

"Man, this is gonna take ages," Alex cursed and leaned his head against his hand in annoyance, his arm propped against the small space between window and door. "Couldn't the Professor like have called her or something?"

"She's a runaway, so no."

"Mentally? He's a psychic."

Scott sighed. "Whatever. We're here now."

"Yeah. Maybe we will make it back home till Christmas," Alex grumbled and leaned his head against the warm window.

The car slowly continued its way until the next intersection where they made a right turn and finally found themselves on a not too crowded street. Nevertheless it took them one more hour and a lot of more bitching until they had finally reached the address the Professor had given them. They left the car, looked around the busy street and finally walked down the street. Scott wondered what kind of mutant that girl was. Over the years the school had grown steadily but the hatred against mutants was as strong as ever. Word had it that the government had authorized renowned scientists Bolivar Trask and Nathaniel Essex with a program against the mutant problem and Scott only waited for the day this would bite them in the ass. He checked the phone once more and crossed the busy street. There was the sound of screeching tires, then a loud _BANG_ and hisworld turned black. The last thing he consciously felt and heard were the blood that ran down his face and his brother screaming his name…


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:**

I had this idea for a new story while binge-watching The Walking Dead. I don't know yet how long this story is going to be, but I will also still be writing on Changes. I hope you guys will enjoy this fic. Please leave a review and let me know what you think.

The characters belong to Marvel.

* * *

 **Mutant Apocalypse**

 **Chapter 2: How it is**

When he came by again Scott found himself lying in a hospital bed; IVs attached to his arm and he was clad in one of those _take-a-peek-of-my-cheeks-_ gowns. Confused he raised his head and found himself to be alone. Since his throat was utterly dry, dry enough to hurt he tried calling out for a nurse, but all he was capable of was a hoarse whisper that made him cough. Coughing again made his chest hurt and it was then that he found out that his upper body was wrapped in gauze. So broken ribs, he figured. Carefully, his right hand traced his head and there too was gauze. Whatever had happened to him, he'd been hit good. How long had he been out? Scott took his surroundings in once more. He wasn't at the mansion, the ICU looked way different from this room. His eyes fell on the small table to his right and he frowned. The flowers in that vase were dead, completely dry. He looked up and it was the same with the fluids he'd been hooked up on. They had long run through his system. What the hell was going on?

"Hel…lo?" Scott tried calling again, his voice a bit louder than and not as scratchy as before. Again there was no reply. Frowning, Scott finally ripped the IV out of his hand and arm and pulled the gauze around his head off. Dizziness washed over him as he tried to stand and his legs were like jelly. He must have been out for weeks from the feel of it. Slowly and carefully he made his way over to the door and opened it a bit. It was then that he noticed something. There were no noises. No sounds at all. No beeping monitors, moaning patients or hurried footsteps in the hall. What the hell was going on here?!

Scott pushed the bed that was right in front of the door away and looked down the hallway in shock. Beds, papers, cables… They were all strewn across the floor, lights hung off the ceiling, doors were either kicked in or lay on the ground. But what really creeped him out were the bodies that lay on the ground and the blood that painted the floor and walls. He made a tentative step forward. There were even more bodies on the other end of the hallway and it shocked him to see that some of them wore military garb. All of them had been shot and judging from the smell they were dead for days already.

Scott ran a hand over his face and thought. The mansion. He had to find a phone and call the mansion. "Stupid…," he cursed. He didn't need a phone. He could try and contact Emma or the Professor mentally. So Scott closed his eyes and concentrated. "Em? Professor? Do you hear me?" he thought and waited. "Emma? It's me. I just woke up. What the hell is going on?" He paused. "Professor? Do you read me? Anybody?" There was no reply. Scott opened his eyes again and dread filled him. What if they had been killed? Or taken by the government? A phone. He needed a phone. Tipsy he went on the search for one. More bodies and more blood, destruction everywhere and he began to feel sick to his stomach. What had caused this? And why? Finally, he found a phone and punched it the number of the mansion. Nothing. The phone was as dead as everyone else. Frustrated Scott threw it to the ground and hissed as pain shot through his side. He needed to find a car and head back to the mansion. See, if everyone was alright.

Scott found some clothes in a locker room that were too big on him but right now he didn't care. As quick as he could he got changed and headed for the outside. The door was barely open and he on the outside as he spotted a pile of human bodies, all wrapped in linen. What had happened that had caused so many casualties, he wondered once more as he walked past them and began to search for a car he could use. He walked, and walked through empty streets, unable to find a car that he could actually use. In the end, he stole an abandoned bicycle and rode into the direction of the mansion through the completely desolated city. It was already getting dark as he passed through a neighborhood close to the mansion. He looked aside, swore he had seen something as a shot echoed through the area and he fell off the bike. Scott groaned, feeling dizzy and turned slowly around just to be greeted with a hit to the head. Everything went dark…

The first thing Scott became aware of again was that his hands and feet were cuffed and he was lying on the cold ground. His ears were still ringing, his heart racing as he dared to slowly opened his eyes and… Yeah, the rifle was being pointed right at his face. And behind it sat an angry looking black guy. "Hi?" Scott said and tried to sit up as the guy suddenly jumped up and pressed the barrel right against his forehead. He froze.

"Did you get bit? Scratched?"

"What? No," Scott said confused.

"Then what's this wound?!" the stranger asked and nodded at the bandage across his chest.

"I got hit by a car and woke up in a hospital. I was trying to get back home. What the hell is going on? Where is everybody?!"

Black guy frowned and lowered his rifle a bit. "Take off your glasses! Let me see your eyes!"

Scott sighed. "I can't. I'll kill you if I do."

And the barrel was back against his head. "I said take'em off!"

"I can't! I'm a mutant. I can't control my powers That's why I'm wearing those glasses," Scott said once more and rifle guy huffed.

"How long were you out, huh?" he mocked and before Scott was able to react his glasses were pushed off his nose by the end of the rifle.

"No!" He squeezed his eyes quickly shut and waited for the familiar burn. But it never came. Confused he waited another minute, then two and finally opened his eyes a bit. Nothing happened. "What the…" Scott blinked and sat up, taking the room and the stranger in. "What the hell is going on?!"

The stranger snorted. "Welcome to the new world." He came closer, put the rifle aside and opened the cuffs. "I guess you got hit by a car a while ago?" he asked and Scott rubbed his wrist, then nodded. "Well, tough luck. Mutants are no more. Humans probably neither. At least I didn't meet any. You said you were on your way home. Where's that?" He dropped the cuffs next to a makeshift bed that was close to a barricaded window right opposite of where Scott was sitting right now.

"Xavier's school."

"Don't bother. It's abandoned."

"What…?" Scott stared at him wide-eyed. "But…"

"They are most likely dead. So don't bother," the stranger said coldly and went over to the barricaded window where a small gap made it possible to look outside. "Switch off the lights and stay calm. They are coming."  
"Who is?"

"Lights! Off!"

Scott did as he was told and joined the stranger at the window. It was dark outside. No one was visible so he wondered if the guy was crazy. He had so many questions right now. "Why are my powers gone?" he asked but he stranger shushed him. Before Scott could ask once more he noticed movement on the outside. All of a sudden the street was crowded with people or at least things that looked like people. They were snarling, moved erratically, sniffed the air like starving animals. And they suddenly aimed right for their house.

"Don't move and keep quiet!" the stranger whispered and Scott didn't have to be told twice.

Three of these things had stopped at the window while he was frozen on the spot. Whatever happened to them had stripped them off their humanity. The eyes were bloodshot, wide and wild, the pupils yellow. The skin was a sickish grey, their teeth sharp like feral's. They looked like wild animals that were on a prowl. They sniffed and scratched the glass of the window, clearly knowing that humans were inside. The stranger next to him took his rifle and gave Scott a sign to take any weapon that lay scattered on the ground. In the end, Scott took a knife.

"Aim for their heads. Anything else won't do," the stranger whispered and loaded the rifle.

Scott nodded and thought his heart would leap through his chest anytime by now. Maybe this was all a dream and he was still in a coma? Maybe he was stuck in some hellish afterlife?

"What happened to them?" he asked in a hushed voice as more of these things gathered in front of the house.

The stranger gave him a brief look. "Essex and Trask screwed up. A virus was released that wiped out almost everyone and turned them into…this. It was a matter of days. Mutants lost their abilities and as far as I know humans didn't even survive."

Scott's jaw dropped. "But…what are these?" he asked with a nod at those wild things.

The stranger shrugged. "Biters. That's what I call them. Those things are feral and eat anything that's still alive. And now hush."

Scott focused his attention on the movement on the outside again. There was a black guy coming closer. He stopped right in front of the window and seemed to stare at the stranger to Scott's right. Scott looked at the man and noticed something akin to sadness in the man's eyes. After a while he sat down. A bit longer and he passed out from exertion.

A kick to his leg woke him up with a start and Scott's eyes fell on a bottle of water that the stranger handed to him. "Thanks."

The stranger nodded and checked the window again. "Those biters come mostly at night. I just made a run yesterday, so you can take some food. But not too much!"

"A run?" Scott asked and took an apple.

"Scavenge. Some people left in a rush. Or died with their fridges full."

"I see…" Scott remained seated and chewed the apple. His stomach was still rumbling and he wondered when he had been last fed in the hospital. He felt eyes on him and met the stranger's gaze. "Are you all alone?"

"Obviously."

Scott watched him for a while. The guy was tall and muscular but his face was cold and harsh. He remembered that black biter he had seen the night before and became thoughtful.

"C'mon. Ask already, " the stranger suddenly said and it was then that Scott noticed that he was being watched.

"Ask what?"

"You know what!"

Okay, busted. "This biter yesterday… The black one… Was he…"

"My father," the stranger replied bitterly. "We had barely arrived in this country when it happened. My father got sick and within two days he was dead. I wait for him every night. And every night he comes. But…"

"You can't shoot him," Scott finished.

"Pathetic. I know," the stranger huffed and glared at the window. "If you run into one of your friend's take the knife and end it. It's a mercy killing!"

"I'm sure they are alive somewhere," Scott replied.

"Good luck finding them," the stranger smiled bitterly.

Scott held his gaze for a moment before he took in the room again. "Why don't you come with me? We'll be stronger together."

The stranger got up and packed three bottles of water, some apples and crackers and a gun with ammunition into a backpack and threw it at Scott. "I still got unfinished business here." And Scott understood. He would do the same. So he got up and followed the stranger to the door. "Don't forget. Aim for the head! I heard there was a safe zone in the south," the stranger said and opened the door. "I hope you will find your friends. Even though I doubt it."

Scott tried to smile. "You'll come to that zone after you've finished your business?" he asked and the stranger snorted.

"That's the plan."

Scott nodded and left the house, then walked to the broken fence. He stopped. "I'm Scott Summers by the way. I never caught your name."

"T'Challa. I see you again, Scott Summers. Good luck. You'll need it!"

The door was closed and Scott found himself standing in the garden alone. He heaved a deep breath and finally left the house behind.


End file.
